


repetition

by EruGhostCat



Series: 13 Days of Lyshtola fics [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 13 Days of Lyshtola, Angst, F/F, Modern AU, Romance, Soulmate AU, theres alot of death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21789181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EruGhostCat/pseuds/EruGhostCat
Summary: There was a reason why every few hundred centuries their souls returned to Hydaelyn’s shores… It was the first omen of an impending Calamity.Y'shtola was determined to break the cycle this time around.
Relationships: Lyse Hext/Y'shtola Rhul
Series: 13 Days of Lyshtola fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575052
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	repetition

**Author's Note:**

> day 2 prompt: date (first,last); somehow turned into this xD  
> some of the prompts im doing as fanart; can see them on my tumblr @ erughostcat

Y’shtola was alone at a small cafe, having her weekly treat of their specialty blend of tea and club sandwiches after a long shift of work. She was sitting outside under the shade of the awning and palm trees, the sound of cars zooming by and the waves crashing against the shore not too far beyond that. The leaves rustled as they fell and were carried by the autumn wind. She was listening to string quartet covers with one earbud in as she enjoyed the moment. Peace was a very fragile thing and she hoped it would last long enough for her to finish her preparations and research. Then she heard the vacant chair at her table jostle. Y’shtola let a frown fall upon her features. 

“Hey!” Came a feminine voice, there was a creak as they leaned a little closer and continued in a hushed tone, “Uh, sorry, could you please just— pretend we’re dating?”

Y’shtola furrowed her brows at the vaguely familiar voice. She considered the request for a moment, the voice sounding genuine enough that she decided to play along. After a moment longer of hesitation, she sighed and tucked away her earbud. She took a sip of her tea and gazed over her cup, “So how was your day, dear?” 

“Ah, good— great!” They shifted nervously across the table, “Just got out of training an hour ago and I’m pretty tired. How was yours?”

“Long. Busy. I made good progress on my research, however.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s good to hear.” 

There was idle tapping on the wood and a low grumbling noise that made Y’shtola’s ears twitch. She raised a brow and gently pushed her plate of sandwiches forward. “Eat something before you pass out. They’re quite pleasant.” 

“Aw babe, I mean, I don’t wanna take your food-- I can just wait-”

“I insist.” Y’shtola shrugged, “I haven’t a large appetite, you needn’t worry.”

Her guest took a sandwich from the porcelain plate and she heard the light crunch of the toasted bread being bitten into. “Oh, das delicshius.” 

Y’shtola chuckled and took another sip of her tea.

She found herself enjoying their light conversation. There was an odd familiarity to it that put her at ease. The owner of the voice had a pleasant laugh and amusing anecdotes about the fitness center they worked at. It was surprisingly nice for a literal blind date, however fake it may be. Her watch buzzed on her wrist, alerting her to the time. She was rather surprised an hour had already passed by. After a moment, she heard them release a sigh of relief and awkwardly clear their throat. “Oh thank Rhalgr. She’s gone.”

“Who?” Y’shtola felt oddly protective over the charming stranger. 

“Uh… My ex. I noticed her following me once I got out of the gym. She’s been stalking me lately…” They murmured with a sigh, “And, like, I could fight her off if she tried something. Probably. But I really don’t want to, y’know?” 

“I see.” Y’shtola replied, subtly gripping the handle of her cane just for reassurance that it was there. She’d rather be prepared should any situation arise. 

“Thank you, I’m so sorry to have dragged you into this.” 

Y’shtola shook her head and reached a hand out, “It’s no problem. I’m Dr. Y’shtola Rhul.”

She knew the moment they took her hand. 

It’s not something one forgets, the feeling of their soulmate’s touch. Or at least, it’s not something Y’shtola forgets, because she remembers. It’s her duty to remember, even if it’s still in bits and pieces. 

“Lyse Hext.” The owner of the warm and calloused hand replied.

Y’shtola nodded, squeezing Lyse’s hand gently. “'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lyse.”

It was, afterall, not the strangest way they’ve met. 

“Hehe, the pleasure is mine.” Lyse withdrew, the joy in her voice already bringing back memories of a time long ago. She can barely remember the way her smile looks, usually losing her sight before their paths cross-- but the thought still invokes warmth in Y’shtola’s chest.

“We should do this again sometime, sans the ex of course.” 

“Sure! Same time next week?” 

“That sounds wonderful.”

\---

Her weekly treat became their weekly date. They shared stories, jokes, and eventually a kiss.

What Y’shtola did not tell her was the fate that they shared. Not even after they fostered an easy companionship over the course of several months. It’s not exactly an easy subject to broach when Lyse could hardly recall what she did the week prior, let alone any lives she lived before this one. 

Not even when Lyse nuzzled against her as they cuddled on her sofa and said, “I feel like you really get me. Kinda... like I’ve always known you.” 

She pulled Lyse close and kissed her deeply, sliding her hands over Lyse’s hips the way she remembered she liked, just enough to make her moan softly against her. Lyse returned the gesture passionately, leaning over her on the sofa and slipping her fingers just under the hem Y’shtola’s shirt. 

Y’shtola couldn’t tell her it’s because she _does_ know her, because she’s loved her time and time again and she recollected every first kiss-- in the dimly lit caverns below The Black Shroud, on the edges of the burned out fields, just beyond the fractured earth of Mor Dhona, on the docks of Nym, and gently in the back rooms of the Waking Sands. Though names, places, and times changed, some points remained constant. Y’shtola always lost her vision. Lyse always lost her older sister. 

There was a reason why every few hundred centuries their souls returned to Hydaelyn’s shores… It was the first omen of an impending Calamity. 

Y’shtola recalled every last goodbye; heart broken before disaster or when their luck finally ran out. Sometimes Y’shtola died first. Sometimes… it was Lyse. It never got easier.

She could remember sitting with Lyse in the dwindling hours of the morning overlooking the peaks of Gyr Abania, Lyse’s smile pressed sweetly against her neck as she hummed songs of salt and suffering she’s known ever since she was a young child. She surrounded Y’shtola in such warmth and comfort that she nearly drifted off to sleep in Lyse’s arms, empty glasses and stray worries stored away in a basket to deal with later. But duty soon called for them both, ending their impromptu date on a less romantic note. Lyse had to return to her command in Rhalgr’s Reach and Y’shtola was to embark on by boat to investigate some aetherical disturbances in Othard.

Y’shtola had not known then that it would be the last moment they’d spend together in that lifetime. Before the Eighth Calamity, before the deadly gas. Maybe if she did....

All she could do now was hold on to Lyse tightly as they lay in bed together at night, soothing Lyse the best she could when the blonde would have nightmares. Y’shtola was determined to give her every onze of love she could for all the times she couldn’t. For all the times she walked away from her for the sake of duty. This time things would be different. 

She was going to make sure they both made it out of this alive. 

\---

It was their first anniversary, an affair they celebrated at a fancy restaurant down by the waterfront. When they got home, they climbed onto the roof of their little house. Lyse always loved stargazing. Y’shtola enjoyed the slight chill of the breeze, the added bonus being that she had someone warm and quite pleasant to lean against. Lyse could tell that Y’shtola was tense, however, and it was something that had been plaguing her thoughts for the past month. 

“Talk to me.” Lyse said softly, “You’ve always seemed so burdened by something. Ever since we’ve met… and I never wanted to push you into talking about it but it seems worse lately.”

Y’shtola frowned, letting her fingers drum on the shingles. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do. I love you, Shtola.” The arm she had wrapped around Y’shtola squeezes gently, encouragingly. She knew she would have to tell her eventually. So she took a deep breath and began to speak as evenly as possible using the script she had rewritten in her head dozens of times over the course of the year. 

“Do you believe in the Calamity Theory?” 

“Uh. I guess? Evolution, rise and fall of civilizations, and all that? I mean, I’m not opposed to the theory but…” Lyse replied, confusion coloring her tone. “Is that what you’re always secretly working on? Heh, I know you’re a bit of a pessimist but I never took you for a doomsday prepper. Ooh, do you have a secret bunker somewhere?” 

Y’shtola rolled her eyes, “No I don’t have a bunker.”

“Aw.”

“This is serious.” Y’shtola chided her, “I’ve been accumulating data for years and by my calculation we haven't many years before the next Calamity falls upon us.”

Lyse became quiet for a few minutes. “So you really believe in this stuff, huh?”

She hugged Y’shtola closer, “If it does happen, we’ll figure something out. Maybe we should make a bunker. It’d be fun.”

She leaned her head against Lyse’s shoulder, “It **will** happen. We have to prevent it.”

“How are we going to do that? Get the neighborhood to recycle with us?” 

“No. We’re _Archons_. It’s our duty.”

Lyse stiffens in response, the word seemingly affecting her. “Archons? The Archons people write stories about-- showing up every Calamity try to save the world and help society rebuild, _those Archons?_ ” 

Y’shtola exhaled shakily but did not falter. “Yes.” 

Lyse pulled away from her then. Suddenly the cold impacted her side where Lyse was, but the sound of her standing up and pacing over the shingles felt even harsher to Y'shtola's senses. “Why do you think so?” 

“I remember every one of the lives I’ve lived, Lyse. Every Calamity that has unfolded on this world-- I was there. And so were you.”

Her silence was deafening.

After what felt like an hour Lyse sighed, “Let’s go inside, it’s getting late.”

Y’shtola felt uneasy. The next few days were awkward, the normally talkative and energetic woman she lived with was quiet and reserved. Y’shtola was worried but she couldn’t make Lyse stay if she decided this was too much for her. There was always a choice.

\---

Lyse made them breakfast one morning, humming a cheerful tune. 

“It explains the nightmares I’ve had all my life. The feelings of deja vu.” Lyse suddenly spoke as they ate. “The way we clicked so easily together. I guess that’s why I took shelter at your table all those months ago-- there was just something about you. Somewhere deep inside I just knew I could trust you.” 

Y’shtola felt relief crash over her as Lyse took her hand and interlaced their fingers over the table. Her voice was filled with undeterred optimism. “Dunno if I’m cool enough to be an _Archon of legend_ but we’ll find a way. I was thinking of some ideas.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“We go viral.” Lyse declared. “We can hook up some sort of network online. An awareness community or something. If the other Archons are out there, we’ll find them!” 

Lyse _was_ rather talented at social media in this day and age. A smile grew on Y’shtola’s lips, Lyse’s help would help ease her burden tremendously. She intended on telling her so when Lyse pulled her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

“One thing, though.”

Y’shtola furrowed her brows at Lyse’s softer tone. “Yes?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Lyse asked. 

“I did not wish to frighten you. Though I detest keeping secrets from you, it was not exactly a simple thing to discuss. I’m rather aware of how overwhelming and outrageous it all sounds so... “

Lyse hummed. “Okay. Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t have believed you if you told me right after we met. If I didn’t have these dreams, I’m not sure I would have believed you now.”

“I’m sorry, Lyse. I truly am.” Y’shtola bowed her head slightly. “Were it within my will, I would rather you live your life free of this cycle, in happiness.” 

_Even if it is without me._

She was pulled into an embrace instead, Lyse’s forehead gently bumping hers. “The cycle’s not your fault. Just promise me there won’t be anymore secrets between us-- even if you know I’ll hate it.” 

“I promise.”

\---

Her dreams were filled with fire, smoke blanketing the sky. Sometimes it was torrential rain, crashing tsunamis, and massive flooding. It was a sudden and unyielding cold snap or the jolts of static bursting from every surface. As Lyse described them to her, Y’shtola would tell her which Calamity it was and who they were back then. Lyse appreciated her explanations, finally understanding the whole of the nightmares she had been plagued with. 

She seemed particularly shaken as she recalled what she described as the most terrifying one. No big explosions, no onslaught of elements, no screaming or blood… just the instantaneous spark of life snuffed out. Bodies. So many bodies. She’s couldn’t move-- couldn’t save them. Couldn’t save herself. Y’shtola held Lyse close as she trembled. 

Remembering was painful.

\---

One by one, they located the other reincarnated Archons— all activists in one way or another, and they did their best to unite them in one group. Some were more local, such as Papalymo— who was always tied to Lyse in some way or another, and some were far; such as Thancred who was always traveling several continents away. Moenbryda and Urianger were already working together on scientific projects to prove the alarming rate of destabilization of Hydaelyn’s flow of aether. G’raha was serving as mayor in a city that used to be Mor Dhona. Though he offered political and financial support, he opted to keep his ties to them secret. Unfortunately, Louisoix had been assassinated a few years ago for leading civil rights protests.

Matoya, however... Finding her was the hardest part. There was very little information to be found on her. Moenbryda did a comprehensive background search and found that Matoya had no living relatives and had dropped off the grid decades ago. Their best lead was a few cryptic clues the woman left behind, taking them deep into the forest. It was their first expedition united together as Archons. Thancred insisted on taking point as they trekked into the thick forest trees that seemed more mythical than reality, distorted by the smoke of fire in the distance. It served to muddle their senses yet Y’shtola found an aetherical trail the others couldn’t see. It was at the end of the trail that they found her, tucked away in a cave.

Y’shtola cautioned the group, expecting surprise and hostility from her reclusive mentor. She ventured in first, “Master Matoya?”

Matoya turned to them in her mechanical chair with a wirr and let out a low scoff, “You’re late and you did not knock. How many lifetimes before you learn your manners, Shtola?”

“Holy shit.” Y’shtola heard Lyse gasp before she could reply to Matoya. It was later described to her that Matoya had dozens of large screens in her abode, some monitoring surveillance around her home, playing news feeds, and running code. She already had their photos and files open. 

Despite what Y’shtola had expected, Matoya _had_ connected herself to the internet, so much so that she was deeply embedded in the mainframe. Her cave walls were coated in solar paneling and disguised satellite dishes, the trees carefully intertwined with wire and steel. Matoya cackled at their group’s shocked silence, “My dears, I _wrote_ the code that made the internet possible.” 

“Shtola.” Lyse mock whispered beside her, “How could you leave out _‘hacker grandma’_ in your description of her?” 

Y’shtola heard a light smack and Lyse’s small “ow” and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please refrain from hitting my wife.”

Matoya grumbled in response, “Tell her to mind her tongue.”

After they finished their introductions, they got down to business. With Matoya’s many spybots-- _her poroggos_ , as she insisted on calling them, they had access to all the world’s secrets. Between Papalymo, Moenbryda, and Urianger’s research, Lyse and Thancred’s physical skill sets, and Matoya’s network, Y’shtola was confident they had a fighting chance to turn the tide. 

\---

They built a fallout shelter near Matoya’s cave in case the worst came to pass. The distant islands of ice were steadily melting, threatening to flood over the coasts and force people inland. Crops struggled to grow in the shifting climate, sudden cold fronts killing off the harvests while the more temperate regions suffered near constant bushfires, cutting the food supply further. Beyond environmental collapse, they also had to contend with the growing corruption in the world's governments. Extremist leaders pushed for wars and stripped down the rights of their own people bit by bit as they vied for absolute power. 

No one issue was an easy problem to counter. They raised communities on a public front to give the people a way to fight back. 

In secret, they hacked and exposed the corrupt so they would fall out of power, funneling their funds towards projects that would work to reverse the threat to the climate. It took over a decade of work, late night surveillance and infiltrations, carefully staged protests and security breaches to reset the balance of inequity in the world-- but they did it. They turned the fate of Hydaelyn away from extinction. They finally broke the cycle. 

But it was not without sacrifice.

Lyse and Papalymo had been doing an infiltration mission at a scientific facility hoping to prevent an attack when several explosions went off. He pushed her out of a 2nd floor window. She nearly broke her leg on the landing just before she looked up to see the flames engulf him. Thancred got caught while trying to assassinate a heavily defended target-- a syndicate boss, and came to the conclusion that it was more important to complete the mission than his own survival. Many people were freed from the bosses clutches that day, a young blonde woman among them. Matoya’s death was quiet, however. They found her in her electric wheelchair by her monitors, seeming peacefully asleep. She left an audio recording for Y’shtola, formally giving her all the codes and permissions to take over her network.

They who remained held a toast for their fallen friends each year.

_For those they have lost, for those they can still yet save._

\---

Y’shtola sat in the grass outside Matoya’s cave-- or was it Y’shtola’s cave now- she really wasn’t sure. Beside her was a basket of half eaten snacks, a few ciders, and Lyse laying with her head resting in her lap. She ran her fingers slowly through Lyse’s long hair, inhaling deep the night air that was finally, thankfully, free of the smell of smoke and ash. 

Y’shtola murmured softly, “If we did this right, this could be the last life we have together…”

Lyse took her hand in hers, rubbing gently with her thumb. She pressed her lips to the back of Y’shtola’s hand, “I’m glad to be living it with you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hacker grandma Matoya... she was a real tech wizard


End file.
